


The sucker gets punched

by Santillatron



Series: Just what do a retired Angel and Demon do with their time anyway? [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ladies and Gentlemen we have a bleeder, Tis but a scratch, pranks gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santillatron/pseuds/Santillatron
Summary: Crowley is trying to get back at Aziraphale for pranking him, but it all goes a bit pear-shaped. It's a good thing the Angel likes pears.





	The sucker gets punched

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to have read the first one to get this, but it does somewhat spoil the surprise if you read this first.
> 
> Teen rating is for language. There's no graphic violence, just stupidity.

Crowley was annoyed. It was quite common for him to be annoyed about something, but right now he was annoyed at himself. Ever since that blessed Angel had managed to Rick Roll him he had been trying to get his own back with no success. The trouble was, he was good at thinking up ways to piss people off, but he didn’t actually want to piss Aziraphale off. He’d tried a few things, but nothing was working. He’d put a huge spider in the shop, but Aziraphale just picked it up carefully and moved it to the top of one of the bookcases near his map collection, where it could be of use menacing anyone attempting to be a customer. He’d tried swapping the sugar in the kitchen for salt, but the Angel had expected sugar, so sugar was what he got. Crowley forgot of course, and had to make up an excuse for spitting out his tea. Every little daft idea he tried fell flat on its face, and his last futile attempt had, well, been rather thrown back in his face. Hard. Which is why he was currently lying on Aziraphale’s sofa, while the Angel very gently cleaned up the blood.

In a last ditch attempt to get any sort of reaction from the Angel, he’d crept into the bookshop, snuck up behind a bookcase and leapt out at Aziraphale to make him jump. Of course his brain had thought at the time that morphing his face into something mildly grotesque had been a good idea.

He did get his reaction this time. The trouble was, he forgot that his sweet, kind, caring and above all soft Angel had originally been a Guardian, and that even after 6000 years, trained instincts are hard to suppress.

In short, the Angel had punched him. Ethereally hard. In the face. And only after that, had he shrieked. The punch had been precise, well executed, and left the recipient with no questions as to the intention. Crowley felt like he’d just been hit with a slab of granite that the mason hadn’t bothered removing from the mountain first.

Aziraphale had shrieked when his brain caught up with his arm, and panicked when he saw the Demon collapse backwards, bleeding profusely from what was left of his nose. Demons are tough by nature, but there are very few beings in creation that can take a punch from a Guardian Angel armed with the Wrath of God. Crowley stood no chance. The smashed nose was easy enough to heal, but Aziraphale had insisted on cleaning the blood up properly, by way of an apology. Crowley had been too stunned to protest, so now he was on the sofa, berating his own stupidity, whilst the Angel very gently dabbed at his face with a wet cloth.

“You’re lucky I realised it was you at the last minute and pulled back!” Aziraphale admonished. “What were you thinking?!”

“Wasn’t.” Crowley grumbled. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

“They didn’t just put anyone on gate duty Crowley! I was created to do this, and given substantial training. It appears some of it stuck. I really am sorry my dear. I do try to avoid violence if at all possible. Now, I think we’re done - all the blood is cleaned up, and your nose should be back to normal. How does it feel?”

Crowley took a moment to wriggle his nose and face around in a manner that the Angel would never admit he found desperately endearing. He put his sunglasses back on. They’d been completely smashed by Aziraphale’s righteous fist, but they didn’t know that and he wasn’t about to remind them. Nor did he feel like facing Aziraphale without them right now.

“All seems normal Angel.” Crowley said quietly as he sat up. He felt very small next to the soft warrior. He’d been a creator, not a fighter, and had never seen the Angel use force before. It was humbling to say the least. Amongst a few other things.

“Good. Now do you mind telling me what the fuck you were hoping to achieve with that little stunt?!” Crowley tried not to flinch at the outburst. There was an edge to Aziraphale’s voice that wasn’t there a moment ago, and it harked back to one which flamed.

Crowley looked up at the Angel through his sunglasses, and realised he was going to have to come clean. Well, cleanish.

“I’m a Demon Aziraphale, and you Rick Rolled me. I know they aren’t keeping score any more, but I still have a reputation to maintain! I can’t just let that slide. Besides! Why the Dev- He- UGH! Why the flaming fuck have I been rescuing you all these centuries when you have a punch that could fell a civilisation?!”

“Just because I can Crowley, doesn’t mean I want to. I don’t like using force, because I’ve seen what happens when I do, and I have no intention of doing that again. I only hit you because you startled me and instinct took over. Luckily for you I recognised you just in time, otherwise I would have hit you with my full strength and divinity. I could have discorporated you Crowley, and left you with not insubstantial wounds to deal with when you arrived back in Hell as well. What do you think they would do if you suddenly turned up wounded? Now, I think you have learnt your lesson here today, yes?” It was not a question.

“Yes Angel, I’ve learnt that you are even more of a bastard than I thought, and I promise never to underestimate you again.”

Oh yes, Crowley thought, I’m going to have to be much smarter next time.


End file.
